


Safe and Sound

by CaitieLewd



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Crying, Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Handcuffs, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sounding, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 15:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12368595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitieLewd/pseuds/CaitieLewd
Summary: Police Officer Sans has been captured by the infamous mafia boss Papyrus. Having been forced to concede to the boss's demands, Sans is being shown exactly what will happen to him if he betrays the boss.Based on the scenario by pincherryontop on Tumblr.





	Safe and Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to day 15 of kinktober! Today we'll be kicking off two days in a row of hardcore non-con dick torture. I have only two stories that involve dick torture THIS focused and violent, and for some reason they both fell right in a row. So sorry-not-sorry about that, haha.
> 
> Today's prompts were sounding, object insertion and lapdancing. I chose the first two! And the characters/scenario here are based on a comic series by pincherryontop, which you can find on their Tumblr at pincherryontop.tumblr.com. If you like bondage, ecto-dicks, and LOTS of Sanses in compromising positions, BOY is their Tumblr the right place for you~

Sans woke to the sound of a dull thumping, which grew louder as his dazed mind was slowly brought back to consciousness. As his eye lights flickered alight, a dark silhouette he knew all too well materialized in front of him.

“shit…” he groaned. No, he was still here. But he _couldn’t_ still be here. He said he’d let him go after the last time, why was—

“Enjoy Your Little Nap, My Pet?” the dark figure purred, red eye sockets flashing, illuminating that sharp, sadistic grin. Sans whimpered, shutting his eyes again. No no _no_ , this wasn’t real, this wasn’t real, it had to _stop_.

Cold steel jangled as he pressed himself against the back of the chair and kicked his feet against the floor. His wrists were cuffed and threaded between the wooden slats of the chair’s back, and his legs were tied to the chair at his knees. All he managed to do was irritate his already chafed wrists, and slide his shoes ineffectually against the dusty wood floor of whatever abandoned warehouse he was being held.

The mob boss, which Sans now knew for certain was the infamous and highly wanted Papyrus, chuckled, tilting the officer’s head up to face him with a long, sharp digit. “Our Time Together Is Running Short, My Little Morsel. And You May Be Pleased To Know You Won’t Be Leaving Here In A Box To Be Scattered To The Winds. However…” his other hand snaked its way to Sans pelvic arches, still exposed behind his unbuttoned trousers. “I Need Some...Shall We Say, _Reassurances_ Before You Go.” Two clawed phalanges hooked his pelvic arches and pulled upward harshly, lifting Sans out of the seat of the chair until the ropes trying his legs snagged.

“nngh!” He looked his captor in the eye, feeling new tears prick at his eye sockets. Did he really have any left to cry? “p-please, come on, you said—”

“I Know What I Said,” Papyrus growled, his scarred red eye flashing dangerously as he pulled Sans even higher, tipping the chair back on two legs. “But I Think Even You Can Understand I'd Prefer To Keep This Little Meeting A Secret.” Suddenly he let go, allowing the chair to fall back to two legs, jarring the small police officer harshly

Sans groaned. “uuugh...i already told you i’d stop looking into your shit.” He met his captor’s eyes, suddenly feeling recklessly defiant. “you think i’d do something as stupid as rat you out?!”

The mob boss scoffed, reaching into an inner coat pocket. “What I Think, My Dear Officer, Is That You Are A Cop Weak Enough To Be Talked Out Of His Oaths Of _Honor_ And _Protection_ By A Little Bit Of Pain.” He pulled out a small, flat wooden box, not much larger than a cigarette case. “A Low-Life Like You Can’t Be Trusted At His Word. That Is Why I’ll Be Giving You A Taste Of What Will Happen If You Betray Me.”

He flicked open the case, then seemed to ponder over the contents for several moments.

Sans shifted nervously, knowing he wasn’t going to escape the cuffs, but unable to stop himself from straining against them. He tried to think of something to say, _something_ to prevent the oncoming pain. But everything he had tried before had been useless. He shouted, demanded, begged, pleaded, bargained. At last he had given in to the one option left to him other than dusting, which was agree to the boss’s demands. He hated himself for it, but it was the only way. He’d probably have to quit the force, but it was better than dying at the hands of a power-hungry psychopath.

Papyrus seemed to come to a decision, nodding to himself as he pulled a small tube-shaped object from the case, then snapped it shut and stowed it back in his coat. _Was_ it a cigarette? Sans was completely at a loss. It was about the size and shape of one. Though it was hard to tell in the dim light, and the boss was considerably taller than him.

Papyrus stepped forward, his shadow engulfing the trembling officer. “Now, I’m Going To Need You To Summon That Delicious Little Cock Of Yours One Last Time.” A skeletal hand extended toward Sans’ pelvic girdle, and he lurched in his seat.

“w-what?! n-n-no, please!” he begged. New sweat beaded on his skull. He moaned helplessly when the mob boss began rubbing his ilium between two of his fingers, bringing a reddish glow to the bone disturbingly quickly. “i s-swear i won’t tell anyone, i’ll do anything you say, just please, _please_ not again!”

The mob boss had already subjected Sans to hours of torture. Whipping, beating, _biting..._ and various sexual tortures he couldn’t even bear to think of now. Being pleasured to the point of almost bursting, then being made to beg for release...over and over again...then being forced to pleasure his torturer in return…

The hand shifted to vigorously rub his ischium, making its way around his pubic arch to his crest, then to his pubic symphisis.

“Come, Now,” the psychopath chided, a sickening smirk spread on his face. “This Won’t Be So Bad. You Might Even Enjoy It.” Sans shuddered, teeth chattering as his face began to flush as brightly as his pelvis. No doubt about it, something was about to manifest down there, and if it wasn’t what Papyrus was expecting there would be hell to pay. That he knew for a fact.

“nnnnnguh…” Sans twitched and grunted, and the cock appeared, glowing red, fully erect, awaiting whatever torment was about to befall him.

“Very Good. You Have Learned Well,” Papyrus praised. The mob boss held up the hand which had just been stroking him to Sans’ mouth, and the officer balked for just a moment, unable to bring himself to do what the sadist wanted.

But the boss was patient, disturbingly so for someone in his line of work. After several moments of tense silence, Sans finally relented, parting his teeth barely half an inch.

“mmmmph!” All at once the tall skeleton shoved his entire hand into Sans’ mouth, practically grabbing his tongue on the way in. He didn’t stop until he was almost wrist deep.

“Better Coat It Well, Pet,” he murmured dangerously. “You Won’t Be Getting Any More Help From Me.”

Sans clumsily gargled the fingers as Papyrus slowly turned his hand left and right, wrangling his tongue so that he could coat every phalange with as much saliva as he could manage. He suppressed his gag reflex, trying not to think about what he was doing. _this will make it better, it will be easier, it will be over soon…_

All too soon, Papyrus yanked his hand out of his captive’s mouth, examining the slick, clear fluid dripping in viscous strings between his bones. “Hm, that will do I think.”

Sans swallowed. He licked his teeth and as much of his chin as he could, but was unable to completely clean the drool now painting his chin.

Papyrus firmly grabbed Sans’ cock at the base and gave him a few hard preparatory strokes, making sure to coat the whole thing with the impromptu lubricant, giving special attention to the tip.

“ghh...nnnh…aaahn…” Sans squirmed in his seat, turning his head away as far as he could. But as much as he wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening, he couldn’t deny how fast the sadistic skeleton was able to work him up. He was so disgusting, a disgrace to his badge...he probably deserved whatever was coming.

Suddenly Papyrus let go of his cock, and Sans couldn’t stop a tiny whine from escaping him.

“Nyeh Heh Heh...Worry  Not, Pet. Your Relief Will Come In Due Time,” the mob boss chuckled darkly. He raised his hand which had just molested Sans, brought it up to the tiny tube still in his other hand, coating it with the remaining saliva, before shaking the excess off, a few cold flecks sprinkling Sans’ face.

“But First, You Must Learn A Very Important Lesson.”

Papyrus moved behind Sans and knelt, putting the boss’s face and sharp teeth right behind the smaller skeleton’s head. Long, sturdy arms reached around Sans, almost as though the boss was going in for an embrace. But the hands settled on his pelvis, and at last Sans caught sight of the object Papyrus had pulled out of his coat.

It was a small, metal rod, tapered at the end, widening to nearly the width of a pencil. It was solid, not hollow as Sans has first imagined, and was about four inches long.

“Take A Deep Breath, Officer,” the monster behind him whispered. “This May Sting A Little.”

The tapered end of the rod moved toward the tip of Sans’ dick.

“w...w-wh-what—no!” he cried, voice breaking. He pushed back against the chair and struggled harder than he had since he’s first woken up. “n-no, you can’t do that!” He jolted and metal handcuffs around his wrists jangled loudly. The chair creaked from the strain of his struggles. “it won’t fit, stop!”

The mobster scoffed. “Oh Please, I Wouldn’t Give You Anything You Couldn’t Take.” The empty hand snatched the red, glowing cock as it bobbed around from the desperate flailing, holding it painfully still. “After All, I Don’t Want To Break My New Pet…”

The end of the rod touched the head of Sans’ cock, lining up with his urethral opening. It was hard, sharp, and so, _so_ cold. A full-body shudder wracked him. “please don’t...i’ll do anything, _please_ …”

The boss smirked. “My Pet, You Are _Exactly_ Where I Want You. Now, Hold Still…”

He pressed the rod in, and immediately Sans started screaming. The pain wasn’t even very bad yet, but his panic-filled mind told the small skeleton it was the worst pain he had ever felt. Acute, piercing, icy cold and just so very _wrong._ Nothing was supposed to go _inside_ his dick, it was insane! It would kill him.

“Shh, Shhhhh, Calm Down. It’s Barely Even In Yet,” Papyrus soothed, his dark, crackling voice the farthest thing from calming. “Deep Breaths, Come On…”

The first centimeter of the rod was in, and it paused for a moment. “aaaaahnnnn—fuck!” Sans hissed, chest heaving as he tried, and failed, to control his breathing. “oh fuck, oh _fuck_ please stop, pleasepleaseplease…”

“The More You Squirm, The More This Will Hurt,” the boss tutted.

“no, st—AAAAGH!” The officer wailed louder as the rod slipped further in. His eyes were shut, he couldn’t look, couldn’t think, couldn’t _breathe_. It felt like his penis was being split apart from the inside, like the thinnest, cruelest saw blade was threading its way in. But nothing was cutting or tearing, only stretching and expanding in a way it was never meant to be stretched.

Millimeter by tortuous millimeter the rod sank into his cock. Sans lost all track of time. There was only ceaseless agony shooting to every corner of his being. He was sure he would die any moment, he _wanted_ to die. Unlike his other tortures and beatings, he never became numb to the agonizing sensation. The only thing that changed was that the rod was no longer cold, warmed by the heat of his throbbing, inflamed organ. But that only made it worse, the warmth being absorbed, amplified, then reflected back out to make the pain even hotter, like all the lava of Hotland itself was trapped in his cock. The pain never abated, it only grew and went deeper, deeper, _deeper…_

“There, Now. Such A Good Boy. Open Your Eyes, Take A Look At What You’ve Done.”

The voice of his torturer sounded distant, as though from the far end of a long tunnel.

“nnnh…?” Sans managed. When had he stopped screaming? He had no idea. His voice was nearly gone, and not a single part of him moved, afraid to change whatever had paused the unholy agony.

“Officer, Have A Look,” the dark voice whispered in his ear. “It’s Really Quite Beautiful, If I Do Say So Myself.”

Sans opened his sockets. He tried to manifest his eye lights, but they only flickered then went back out. He didn’t actually need them to see, but he formed them so often out of habit that he associated their presence with seeing.

His dark sockets gazed mindlessly downward. His head hung limply forward—he hadn’t the energy to move it. But Sans didn’t need to move his head to see what had happened to him. His cock was swollen to an alarming size. The shaft was so puffed up and stretched it looked as though it was about to burst. Overall it was its usual red color, except for a dark, allien line running through the center. The dark line penetrated most of his shaft, all the way to the head where a portion of the metal rod stuck out the tip, stretched impossibly wide to accommodate the foreign object. Two skeletal claws held the minuscule end of the rod in place, making sure it didn’t slip any farther in—or out.

Sans nearly screamed just at the sight, but only managed a choked sob. Somehow, seeing it made it so much more real. He could feel it all again, every burning, unforgiving inch skewering his cock. He wanted it out, he wanted to _be_ out. How was he awake? How was he _alive_?

“See? You Did So Well. Now Here Comes The Fun Part…”

The hand which wasn’t holding the rod in place moved forward, carefully hooking a few fingers around the base of Sans’ shaft.

“Hmm, No...You’re So Dry Already,” Papyrus muttered. And of course he was. Even after his treatment before, any precum that might have leaked out was now plugged up in his shaft. “That Won’t Do.” Without letting go of the rod, the mob boss moved in front of Sans, bending over to put his face right in front of his cock.

“w-w-what a-are you—aaagh!” A brilliant red-orange tongue flashed out from between tall skeleton’s sharp teeth and gave Sans’ cock a single, long lick from base to tip. It then coiled around the base with frightening agility, teasing and coating the shaft with slick saliva, which felt almost cool compared to the angry crimson heat of his engorged cock.

“h-h-h-haaagh—! stop! oh h-holy fu—stop, _please_ , i can’t, i can’t…” Sans sobbed. Every tiny movement sent shooting pains through him, peaking at the tip which he could swore he could _see_ throbbing.

The boss looked up licked his teeth, a rolling laugh erupting from deep within his ribcage. “Nyeh Heh Heh...You’re Just A Fat Little Cherry Ready To Pop, Aren’t You? A Juicy Morsel Just Ripe For The Picking…” The clawed fingers wrapped around Sans’ cock again, once more stroking the base and tearing screams from his chest so loud and unearthly he couldn’t believe they were his.

“AAAAH—AAAGH—NO, PLEASE! OH GOD STOP _PLEASE_ I’M GONNA—” Sans broke off, both overcome with sensation and shocked from the words which were about to pour from his mouth.

“Going To What, My Pet? What Is It You Want?”

“take it out! take it out please for the love of _god_ take it out!” Sans bucked freely in the chair now, completely unsure if he was trying to move away from or closer to the hand. A pressure was building in his cock, perilously urgent and absolutely terrifying given the implications.

“I Know _That,_ Silly Thing,” Papyrus simpered. With his thumb and forefinger looped around the base of the shaft, he gave it several short, sharp tugs. “But What Is It You Want To _Do?_ Say It, And I’ll Take It Out.”

“nnnnnfffhh...aaahhh…” No, Sans thought. No no no, this couldn’t be happening. Of all the...there was no way he could be this close to…but it had to go _somewhere_...or else it would kill him, wouldn’t it?

Red eyes flashed at him. _“Say It,”_ the boss hissed. Suddenly the rod pushed in another half inch.

“AAAAAAHH—” Sans’ back slammed against the back of the chair as he shouted toward the ceiling. “PLEASE LET ME COME! PLEASE, PLEASE, _PLEASE_ LET ME COME! I’M GONNA DIE, HELP—”

“Good Boy.”

In the single excruciating moment of Sans’ life, the rod was yanked out of his cock. Cum instantly shot out of him, propelled several feet in the air from the sheer pressure which had built up. His shriek tapered off into a croaking wail, the remainder of his voice completely obliterated. In that moment of pure misery there was no Papyrus, no mafia, no badge or oath of office. There was only a deep, profound, utterly consuming anguish. Tears streamed down his face as he knew for absolute certain he was about to die. He would collapse into dust and finally be released from this evil, callous world of torment and shame.

But he didn’t. When his senses returned to him, Sans opened his eyes just in time to see the boss’s back walking away, hands clasped behind him, coat billowing behind him as he made his way toward an unseen exit.

“I Hope We Have Reached An Understanding, Officer. My Men Will Be Here Shortly To Escort You To Your Home. Do Not Forget Our Little Agreement.” He paused, turning his head to flash a sinister grin back at Sans. “And If You Want More, Feel Free To Drop By My Home Anytime. The Address Is In Your Pocket. I Promise I’ll Treat You Very, Very Nicely, My Obedient Little Pet…”

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo yeah, I neither have a dick nor a particularly strong kink for sounding. BUT I do like bondage, non-con, and torture to an extent, so here we are, haha. Again thanks to pincherryontop for the inspiring scenario here, I love me some Dom Papyrus >:3 The comic doesn't technically have an end right now, and I won't pretend I knew what you were going for. But I hope this is a good ending in the spirit of the comic, lol.
> 
> And just to add some extra ominousness to this: Sans will likely leave the police force after this, and Papyrus has the means (and motivation) to manipulate his circumstances further, and make it to where Sans has no choice but to seek him out for "protection." Which would be freely offered, but likely come at a cost...
> 
> Tomorrow's kinks will be wax play and masks! And they will feature yet another Sans getting his dick tortured. Yaaaaay~


End file.
